So I kick my legs like crazy, want to kick him. I don't care that my back tears even further on the hard stone. Yes, it's not even worth a flickering thought. The only thing that reminds me of it is the pain that rushes through me. And in fact, my kicks don't just go into the void. My foot catches Xerxes in the shoulder while he's still crouched in front of me. A growl-like sound is heard, but it fades away. All I really hear is my heart racing, my blood pounding. Only one thing matters. I have to stop him. I don't want to feel the blade against my skin. And then Xerxe's words echo in my head again. Sign. What the hell is going on here? It reminds me of some kind of witchcraft. Something that isn't good - something that involves dependency. And so my efforts grow stronger. My body screams. The wounds seem to be really throbbing and the dirt on the ground eats deep into me. The adrenaline doesn't take the pain away. But that doesn't matter either, because one thing is clear: if I can't kick the knife out of Xerxes' hand, I'll suffer even greater torment. And that's not the only thing that makes my breathing shallower and shallower. He smiles. But that doesn't imply friendliness. no Rather satisfaction. Then he gets up. Slow. Almost deliberately. But continuously. However, the slowness is to my advantage. I want to kick him again. Wants to steal some of his steadfastness with one powerful impact. Or at least get the knife out of his hand. buy me some time And sure enough I meet the shimmering blade. But not what I was hoping for happens. There is no metallic clanking, indicating that the knife is now on the ground. Instead, pain shoots through me. Blood trickles down my foot, showing that I've just injured myself. And that makes me whimper. I kick my legs like crazy, trying to keep him away from me. But even that is no longer granted to me, because Xerxes foot bounces against me with full force and thus nips my last attempts at defense in the bud. Makes the pain grow and with it my spirit shatters. This feeling can no longer be stuck in your own body. The helplessness turns into something beautiful. I seem to fly I see Xerxes grip the knife tighter and approach me. Slowly but steadily. And suddenly the shimmering silver doesn't look so dangerous anymore. Really strange. But that's good. Because now I accept the situation - accept that there is nothing I can do. And that, in a paradoxical way, gives me peace. I also seem to perceive my environment better all of a sudden. The way the blade sits perfectly still in my hand, the way Xerxes looks at me closely. And when our eyes meet, he draws his eyebrows together. He looks confused. Probably because I can't fight back anymore. But I just don't care. Let him give me a sign. A wound more or less. This makes no difference. "I'm just honoring the traditions of the family." He shrugs and I can only look at him. The madness is in his eyes. But it doesn't scare me anymore. Then the tip of the knife touches my skin. This scratches along the bottom of my chest and that's exactly what makes me flee even further from reality. But what I can't avoid is the tear that falls from my eye. Again Xerxes sees the salty drop, breaks eye contact and seems almost thoughtful. I would love to analyze that expression, but the knife is now penetrating my skin. And that shows me that it is very well my body. there is pain I tremble, make a choked sound and grab the arm that is causing me endless suffering. Not to push him away, but to hold me tight. I don't want to fight anymore. I understand one thing now. It hurts too much to fight back. Always I rise and every time I fall. Deep. And I don't want that anymore. And so I don't even try to pull my hand away while the blade slices through my skin like it's paper. The warm blood runs over me and makes me feel even more like I'm not in this room anymore. i am somewhere else Somewhere where pain and agony are just an illusion. Still, look to Xerxes. He looks at me too. Almost all the time. Only very briefly does his gaze slide to the knife. Never more than a second. That's how I see how he's breathing heavily. And during the air burst, Xerxes looks like he's received a knock out. As if a huge load had just been lifted from his shoulders. He looks happy all of a sudden. I know it - I know exactly what he's going through. When the fight inside goes out briefly. That one second where only calm is in you. And as Xerxes savors the moment, he re-establishes eye contact with me. The veil of the green eyes seems to lift briefly. And as crazy as it is, it gives me support. Suddenly I have the feeling that Xerxes really sees me. Not just the facade. It's paradoxical, but a bond seems to be being formed between us. At least for me. But right now I don't care if he recognizes it or not. Suddenly I don't seem to be alone anymore. There is someone else who is going through exactly what I am going through every day. It's a kind of togetherness. It doesn't matter whether Xerxes allows it or not. Nobody can take this knowledge away from me. Still, the pain makes me tremble. And not only that. I'm sweating. My palms are downright wet, making it difficult for me to hold on to Xerxes. But he doesn't stop. I pray it's quick. However, I am not allowed to do that. A huge incision is made on my upper abdomen. And only when the blade has almost completely overcome my rib cage does Xerxes move away from me a little. "Scream." It's just one word. Such a simple string of letters. And yet I feel like that's enough to make my heart skip a beat. The voice sounds unnaturally deep to him not Xerxes sitting in front of me. But I don't concern myself with that. Instead, I press my lips together and just look at him. I would like to put something like defiance or fighting spirit in my gaze. However, I am no longer able to do this. Xerxes snorts contemptuously and moves a little further away from me. "If you're not willing..." he murmurs, the last part being spoken too incomprehensibly for me to understand. But instead of letting me go completely, Xerxes pulls my legs forward, sits on my calves. And then the blade goes deep into my thigh. A glistening pain takes over me and seems to tear everything with it. No thoughts bother me. Just me and the agony. Just me and the dark. I groan again in pain and automatically jerk away. But that's no use. He keeps going. How does Xerxes know what he's carving when it's all that dark red? God it's getting too big. The mark goes around my entire thigh. But I keep seeming to lose consciousness. There are gaps. Darkness. Then it's light again. But I ignore that. Don't question. But what I can't ignore is my tiredness. My lids seem heavier by the second. I feel so drained - so helpless. But I don't want to close my eyes. Then I wouldn't see Xerxes anymore. I would only perceive the pain that engulfed me. "Just scream, Kalota." He says it like it's a completely natural request. But it's not. I'm supposed to please his inner beast. He wants the kick now? Now I'm supposed to feed the beast. Through my desperate cries for help. And that makes me angry. What the hell is wrong with him? Once more the knife is pressed into my skin. Once more I let out a sound of agony. "You won't get what you want from me," I choke out, even my voice resonating with my exhaustion. That I'm somewhere on the cusp of being awake and unconscious. But I'm serious. The only way, Xerxes Somehow bringing him to his senses isn't going to give him what he wants, it's just a question of how much longer I can do it, it's a wonder I can think at all now, probably the adrenaline coupled with my habit of abuse. And I really expect him to keep working my thigh. But Xerxes doesn't drive the iron into me any further. Instead, the knife is removed from my skin. Still, I'm shaking uncontrollably and I'm wondering where that's coming from. Is it a protective mechanism of the body? But why don't I faint completely? God, how I would like to have this blackness around me again. It would be heaven on earth. But I'm not allowed to do that. no Instead, I need to see the blade. How this is stained with my blood. Thick red drops make their way over it to the handle. And Xerxes' hand is also wet with the deep red. That should shock me. It should bring me back to reality. But it doesn't. The only thing I see is Xerxe's gaze. How it darkens with every second he continues to look at the blood. And that's when I know I have to do something. anything. "Xerxes, this won't help you." Another tremor fills me, making me groan in pain. But this time it's not the physical abuse that makes me tremble, it's the fact that I speak the truth. There's no escaping the eternal damnation. He laughs hard and looks at me contemptuously. As if I were an insect that should be destroyed. "What do you know?" The words are almost spat out and he bends over me, running his finger over my blood-stained skin. "You have no idea what works and what doesn't." And now he's looking at me again. Hate. Absolute hate lies in the green eyes. It should intimidate me. Should shut me up. But there is something good about this situation. I have nothing left to lose. "At least I know that you won't be feeling any better tomorrow." In fact, there is something like strength in my voice. And so I want to try to sit up a bit. It fails miserably. I can't lift my head even a millimeter. And now Xerxes drops the knife. It hits the ground with a clatter, but that doesn't give me any relief. It's not the knife that's the danger, it's Xerxes. I have now noticed that too. He crawls up on me so that our faces are right on top of each other. But don't touch me. "You still want to hold on to the fact that you even half understand me?" The warning is obvious. Apparently Xerxes just stopped asking if I was lying about it because he's so sure of it. And that makes me gasp in disbelief. Did I really think when I confront him that he would know the truth? "Yes." It's barely audible. Even the faint crackle of the torches seems like screaming against the volume of my voice. It doesn't matter. I've fought and lost again. And so another tear creeps out of my eye. But this time It's not desperation that drives me to cry It's that I've given myself hope again I can't take the constant disappointment anymore Don't want to experience it anymore. Xerxes raises an eyebrow and leans forward. "Then tell me, who started the fight in you?" It's supposed to be a test. I'm probably supposed to tell him an event that left me so traumatized that the darkness has come. But it's not like that for me It's been a long time that made sure of that. The blackness came insidiously. It took me without my realizing it. But I don't have the strength to imagine trauma. And so I close my eyes and will just don't see Xerxes lose control entirely. "My mother." With that I get ready for him to grab me by the neck and strangle me. That he might also reach for the deep wound in my upper abdomen, ram his fingers into my flesh, and skin me alive. I'm ready for anything. But none of that happens. Instead, there is a rustling. Hot breath hits me, and before I realize what that means, Xerxes gently places his lips on mine. Buries his hand in my hair, pulling me up a bit and increasing the pressure of his mouth on mine. Kisses me for the first time and without being able to control it, I claw at him. *** And as I cling to Xerxes more and more, the movements of the kiss gain in intensity. His beard looks almost rough on my skin. I do not care. This is important. Whatever prompted Xerxes to kiss me could fade away just as quickly. So I put all my desperation in the kiss My heart is beating hard in my chest. Hurts me. It seems like the rapid thumping is enough to further aggravate the wound on my upper abdomen. But that's not important either. This is about my life right now. So I don't notice the pain growing Ignore how the blood is still pushing out of my wounds. Generates a warmth that just shows that everything I'm doing here is just wrong. Xerxes digs his fingers into my hair even more and pulls me up even higher. Makes me sit down That movement alone is enough to make me whimper. It's hard to squeeze from mine into his mouth. And that tone makes his lips curl into a grin. He enjoys my pain. And as I tremble, leaning against him to keep from collapsing again, my tongue makes its way to mine. I taste Xerxes for the first time and even though the panic is crushing everything inside me, I seek to be close to him. He's my only clue right now. As long as Xerxes is content, I need suffer no more. Very hesitantly, Xerxes circles my tongue. Really teases me. But one more thing strikes me. It doesn't look real. The movements are too choppy. Work too calculated. Even now, it seems to me that Xerxes is only acting according to plan. Funny how he wants me to drop but he can't seem to do it himself. But I put that thought aside because it's slowly slipping away from me. Immediately I want to follow his lips. continue the kiss He mustn't think. But I can hardly find the strength to stay seated. Likewise, I find it impossible to crawl onto Xerxe's lap so I can put my lips back on his. And as our eyes lock, I can't help but grimace in desperation. "Please don't hurt me again." God, why can't I speak louder? My voice has no power in itself. Seems so infinitely fragile and the problem is that it shows Xerxes how far he pushed me. I'm so tired. I wish I could just close my eyes, but I can't. Then I would no longer have the opportunity to direct Xerxes at least something. Immediately he smiles slightly and his hand is still in my hair. And as crazy as it is, that touch makes it possible for me to breathe. As long as he's holding me like that, I'm safe. "Do I look like I want to hurt you right now?" He approaches me a little again, but not to kiss me. Rather, I have the feeling that he wants me to look him straight in the eye. Perceive the poisonous green in it. And I do. But no answer to the question can be found there. And so all I can do is sob softly as I lightly press my head into his palms. Suggesting to him that I need his closeness. his protection. "I dont know." And now the smile turns into a smile. It would probably pass for cute if there wasn't blood on his face too. Small streaks of the dark red can be seen on the temples and are lost in the dark beard. "That's good," he mutters softly, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. This reinforces the feeling that there is no danger from him. But the pleasure is only brief, so he slides his fingers further down. between my breasts Circles them, only to continue to make their way over my stomach. And I'd love to look at his hand, but I can't. Xerxe's eyes hold me. But what I can't do, he does. Xerxes looks at his finger and finally I can do the same as him. But what I see makes my heart skip a beat. He draws on my skin. But not with a lump of coal, but with my blood. Every little movement from him is shown by the dark red. circles. wavy lines. And now I also recognize "It looks nice, doesn't it?" In fact, it sounds dreamy. As if this sight calms him down. And that's probably the case. "For me, the woman's body has always been a kind of canvas." He looks at me and I seem to just forget to breathe. But not even because of what Xerxes is saying, but because he is expressing his thoughts. Shows me a little more what's going on inside. "And you Kalota could finally be a woman I could live out all my fantasies with." He presses his finger into the wound on my thigh. I whimper but don't even break eye contact with Xerxes. It seems to me that this is important. That he wants me to look at him. He sees in my eyes how I feel. Still, I tense up a bit. But what I'm most aware of is that I still seem to be split off from my body. Not like the abuse, but I don't seem to be fully recovered yet. It's almost as if my mind is refusing to fully accept my body again. Xerxes runs his finger over my nipple and now I see what he's doing. My nipple is colored red. Glistens wet from the blood just swabbed there. And despite the dark coloring of my forecourt, this very dark red forms a strong contrast to it. But I can't continue looking at the sight when Xerxes slides his hand lower and I look up at him again. And though he doesn't touch any of my wounds, I groan in agony. It does not stop. I have pain. All over. No habituation occurs. Rather a constant pull, which takes me. Just keeps drifting me further and further. How can I sit here and yet be so far away? It scares me. Unspeakable fear that the feeling will never go away and that Xerxes has broken something in me. Something that can never be healed. I've seen that too many times. And I am sure that at some point there will be nothing left in me that can be snatched away from me. "You know, there's a way to lessen the pain." His words are soft. So quiet that I have to lean a little closer to hear him at all. "As?" And now he has me where he wanted. He should show me a way that I am master of my own body again. I don't want to keep asking myself if I'm broken forever. Don't want to see what's shattered inside of me. The shards inside me are just too big. Absolute satisfaction is in his eyes. The aggression is gone and all that's left is a slight shimmer. One that looks incredible. Almost like moss, which still has the last dew of the night on it. "You have to let yourself drift." Exactly with the words, his finger reaches my pubic bone. Very slowly Xerxes makes his way forward and his eyes don't leave mine for a moment. I can see what he means. But I can't imagine. Arousal can never take my agony away. But I keep my thoughts to myself. Allow Xerxes fingers to touch my labia and brush them almost tenderly. Too little pressure is applied for him to touch my clit. But he doesn't need that either. My body literally absorbs this tenderness. Xerxes leans forward a little more so we can't face each other. But that is no longer necessary. Right now the raging sea is calm. "Can you do that, Kalota? Give yourself to me?" i should lie Should tell him that I can do it and radiate something like security. But I don't want to upset him again. The truth is better there, even if it may not be beautiful. "I can not say it." It's no more than a whiff. Xerxes probably feels my breath on his lips before hearing my words. But he seems to have understood. A grin forms on him and he snorts in amusement. "I can work with that," he whispers and now puts more pressure on his finger, letting it touch my clit. And even if more force is exerted, my body doesn't seem to be able to place this touch. The hardness just experienced and now the softness. I tremble slightly as Xerxes begins to play around my pearl. Very hesitantly presses it from left to right and thus elicits a tight gasp from me. He hums contentedly. "I think we can do that, too," he whispers quietly before our lips meet again. But he doesn't keep his hand between my legs for long. Instead, he glides higher. Over my stomach, over the wound under my breasts, up to my neck. Very hesitantly he strokes the iron ring that is still lying there and touches one of the only parts of the body that is not plagued by pain. This is exactly how Xerxes manages to convey a certain tenderness. It is not torment that his fingers produce. No, my body sucks it up. Craves to feel the warmth of the skin. And so I can suddenly breathe more calmly. My heartbeat calms down. It still seems faster than usual, but my chest no longer hurts from the strong throbbing. And I enjoy that with every damn fiber. I don't care if I can switch off. Doesn't matter, whether Xerxes gets his way by doing so. I just want it to stop. The desperation and all the helplessness should be taken away from me. Quickly. And if that's the only way, then so be it. I won't stand in the way of that. So I conform to his lips. Tentatively open my mouth and gently push my tongue to his. Circle these and let Xerxes slowly pull me up. I'm still shaking badly. But I don't care about that either. I'm on the edge of my strength. I can't expect a kiss to bring my energy back. Tentatively open my mouth and gently push my tongue to his. Circle these and let Xerxes slowly pull me up. I'm still shaking badly. But I don't care about that either. I'm on the edge of my strength. I can't expect a kiss to bring my energy back. Tentatively open my mouth and gently push my tongue to his. Circle these and let Xerxes slowly pull me up. I'm still shaking badly. But I don't care about that either. I'm on the edge of my strength. I can't expect a kiss to bring my energy back. But Xerxes holds me as I continue to be relentlessly pulled to my feet. I'm still clinging to his shoulders. Feel the velvety fabric between my fingers and yet I know that only Xerxes ensures that I manage to stand upright. He has to hold me by my waist for this. The fingers press on my open back. But even that's okay. It's a help. Whether this is painful or not, there is someone to take care of me. Still, I have to break the kiss to take a deep breath. The dizziness increases again and my head seems so miserably heavy. I would love to lie down. Not even to sleep, but lying down is so much more comfortable. Easier. But Xerxes has other plans. He gently pushes me backwards. And since I can't offer any resistance, I carefully put one foot back. Immediately, the balls of my feet protest against the weight of my body and the cut screams. But I don't falter. Don't pause for a second, instead step back an inch. Xerxes smiles slightly and looks at me again. The blood on my body and I'd like to know if he still sees me as some kind of portrait. Does he recognize the torment he inflicts on me? But nothing on his face suggests that. He looks rather happy. But something else strikes me. the pupils. That these are widened. I know that. It shows the arousal. But I can't even finish the thought then he slides one hand from my waist between my legs. Almost cautiously he touches my labia and a tight tone sounds from me. Not even because I'm in pain, but because I still can't classify this softness. It's as if my body marvels that softness follows the abuse. And so I cramp a bit while Xerxes slides further between my thighs. But he hardly exerts any pressure. Lets the fingertip just float over my skin as light as a feather. I would have thought that I would not even notice such a light touch after this ordeal. I was wrong. My body pounces on it too. It's almost as if the spots were tingling. For more desire. Much more. This overwhelms me now completely and so I close my eyes convulsively. Somehow I want to focus. I do not succeed. The pain is still driving me insane. But something is struggling through the morass of all the torment. Something Xerxes wishes would go further. Finally put his finger on my clit and help me But he doesn't comply with my unspoken wish. Instead, he slides his fingers over the hollow between my thigh and my pubic area. That elicits a pained tone from me. It presses hard over my throat and I look back into the green eyes. "Do it." I tilt my pelvis towards him and just that little movement makes me grimace in pain. God, it feels like my skin has been burned. Like I'm being burned alive. Which is right Don't I want Xerxes stimulation anyway? Shouldn't I just want to sleep? Or at least have a strong need to rest? But the desire for rest that was ever present is fading. I want to feel some sort of intimacy. Anyone to show me that I'm still alive - that I'm able to feel more than cold, pain and sadness, and in that moment I don't care who it is. Xerxes leans forward slightly and tightens his grip on my waist. Guess I want to make sure I don't just collapse. "What should I do, Kalota?" A rhetorical question. It's obvious. He wants to hear what I wish for. That he managed to capture me with just a small glimmer of hope. I should fight back. Should the little candle blow it out or at least turn your back on it. After all, I've had the light snatched from me far too many times. But I don't even dream of it. "You're supposed to take my pain away," I whisper, just staring at the bright green. It looks really poisonous. Like something to be avoided at all costs, because entering my bloodstream would harm me. But the problem is That's too late. Xerxe's poison is in my body. He got what he wanted today. I fear him. He laughs out loud and looks at me piercingly again. That look alone goes through my bones. Makes me forget to breathe for a moment. "You mean?" Xerxes puts more pressure on his finger and pushes it through my labia. I gasp and clutch him even tighter. That alone is enough to make it even more difficult for me to stand. how can my legs seem so soft? It's almost as if there were no bones in them. My knees keep giving in slightly and I have to force myself to push them straight again. It robs me of my precious strength. Makes me weaker by the second and I'm sure that soon Xerxes won't be able to support me properly either, not with just one hand. "Yes? Is that what you mean?" Xerxe's voice is lowered. Caresses my thoughts almost sweetly and just to enhance the effect, he streaks his finger towards my clit. Circles it without touching it. But that alone is enough, so that I suddenly get hot.The flames on my skin are now joined by an inner fire and I am losing more and more control over my thinking and my actions. Xerxes bites my lower lip lightly. Pull on it, and as tender as the gesture is, it's intimidating. Like a sign that I should answer. And so I pull myself together again.